Billie Optimal stood first, approaching with confidence, holding out her hand. She was Black, with short hair she had dyed purple, and sharp, confident eyes. She smiled easily at Amylee. “Really nice to finally meet you,” she said, introducing herself.

Spencer had been kind enough to offer notes on their old team, left in a nice packet on their old desk in their old room, along with tips on the best restaurants in the area, nice places to unwind, and the quirks of the Hangar. Billie was the proud slugger of the team, the notes said, she and Shiny Fitzgerald in constant competition with each other.

Billie opened the dam, and the rest of the players came forward to introduce themselves, welcoming her to the team.

“I know this wasn’t your choice,” Gil Carmelo said quietly, hanging behind the rest of the team, “but we want to help you in any way that we can.”

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Rammy smiled. “That’s what I like to hear. Okay, Dash! You’re in for Oliver.”

Dash stood and grabbed his batter’s helmet. “Heck yeah! Finally!”

Rammy called in the change to the Officials, and Dash moved to the on deck circle.

Elliot stood, her ears alert. The fur stood up on the back of her neck. Oliver watched as she jumped up to the dugout railing and looked out over the crowd.

“Hey,” Oliver said, joining her at the railing. “You okay?”

“Something’s happening,” she said. “I don’t know what but I can feel it.”

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The Weathermancers announced themselves to United when a cloud burst in the arena, and rain began to pour. The United fans shouted in confusion, especially when a bolt of lightning hit one of the foul poles. In retrospect, all of the ‘Mancers fans wearing rain coats should have been a tip off. The Weathermancers came out, their uniforms water resistant, rain cascading off of their wide brimmed hats. The United were already soaked through, standing in line, already clearly miserable.

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United fans occupied a rowdy visitor section, waving blue flags and singing. Oliver struck out swinging, and they began to sing — Oliver couldn’t be bothered to hear. It was the same every time, and he knew all the lyrics to this one. “O-K! O-K! O-K! Trash-Cat!” It couldn’t hurt any more because he was so bored of it.

The fans were still singing when United returned to the field, still singing when Mark Paris stepped up to bat, and when he caught Amylee’s fastball, they fell silent. Oliver didn’t notice. He saw the ball coming at him, and he ran. It was coming just out of sprinting range.

Oliver didn’t remember thinking about lunging for the ball. He didn’t remember how he had thrown himself over the ground. He didn’t remember thinking about any of that. He landed on the ground and rolled head over heels to a stop. And he held his glove up for the umpire to see.

“OUT!” The umpire said.

The Blackhats fans fell silent. Oliver stood and threw the ball back to Amylee, and Crasher stood, pointing to Oliver and staring up at the visiting supporters. “WHY ARE YOU QUIET?” They shouted. The United supporters seemed to blink as one, and then they started to sing again, a few at a time, until they were back at full force. They were still calling him ‘OK’, but it felt different. They felt more unsure of it now.

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Hal had taken her under his wing, helping her with her pitching, tweaking her style until she was throwing something truly her own. He guided Rammy to stop swinging for a home run every time, to utilize the side boards of the arena, ricocheting the ball into an earned base, that sometimes the best thing she could do is hit a single and move the base count along. Sometimes a waist-level line drive was more effective than a popped up ball that could be caught more easily. Hal raised her batting average to a respectable .290, and she stayed there until this season.

This season wasn’t Hal’s fault. The Regents weren’t Hal’s fault. She’d never blame him for any of that. He did what he thought was right. She wondered what she would have done if she had been faced with that situation. Would she have made the deal? What would she have offered to make the suffering end?

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Crasher shook their head. “I have no context for this at all.” They thought about this. “I looks like we’re in a stadium.”

 “But not baseball.”

 “No.” Crasher took another step forward. “Want to go look around?”

 Amylee gasped. “But, what if it’s dangerous?”

 “Too dangerous for the two of us?” Crasher asked, smiling a little. “I doubt that. We’re a team, right?”

 “Are we?” Amylee asked.

 “It sure looks like it. My name is in there, right with yours. And if that’s true, together, we’re unstoppable.”

 Amylee stared at them, giving them her best side eye. “Why?”

 “Why are we unstoppable?”

 “Why are you doing this? Is this an act?” Amylee narrowed her eyes at them. She took a step back.

 “Ah,” Crasher said. “I got it.” They sat down on a bench. “That’s fair. You don’t know me. And this is a weird situation, because if I am reading things right, you and I are both very far away from home. So yeah, I guess we have a few options: We can circle each other and bare our teeth and snarl, or… we can accept we are both strangers in a strange land, and look out for one another.” They let that sit in the air for a moment. “I’d like to do the second. We’d be stronger together.”

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“So we play… because…?” Aston asked.

“It plays by their rules, and it allows us to build up some energy, or mana, or whatever you want to call it, under the radar. So that when we do have to fight, and we will, we will be ready.”

The room was quiet. Elliot took another long drink of her coffee. “That was a lot of talking. So let me say this: Play your hearts out. Have fun. Be good to one another, because that kind of energy actively hurts them. And, if nothing else, play like your life depends on it.”

“This sucks,” Razija said.

“Yeah,” Elliot said. “You’ve been given an unfair deal. It sucks and you’re absolutely right to be upset. The best thing to do with that rage is to turn it on the Regents. I know it feels wrong but you’ve gotta keep on going. It’s going to take work, but we can and will destroy them.”

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No one sat when they got back to the dorms. For a moment, they all just stood in the common area, blinking the night away. Oliver shuddered. He did the only thing he could think to do.

“I’m going to put on coffee,” he mumbled.

Finally, snapping back into the world, Crasher said, “Rammy.”

Rammy blinked. She stood close to Mariya, holding on to her arm, and until that moment she had glassed over.

“I think you should tell us everything.”

Rammy nodded. She sat down on one of the couches, hugging herself, leaning forward. The team gathered around her. She didn’t look at them.

“We made a deal,” she said grimly.

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“Wait,” Rammy asked Hal, “you’re leaving the team?”

Angelo went on, but all attention from United turned to Hal.

Hal nodded. “It’s the best thing to do, we think, to keep you all safe.”

Rammy started to talk, looking suddenly lost.

“I know it’s a lot to take in,” Hal said. “And when we get back to the stadium we can talk about whatever you want.”

Crasher’s eyes widened. “Wait! Hang on! What the hell are those things? Why are we even fighting them?”

“Crasher,” Hal started, gentle and warm.

“Don’t,” Crasher said. “Don’t even start. You’ve been hiding something from us. What is happening? We deserve answers.”

Hal thought for a moment, rubbing his hands over his beard. “You’re right. And I’m sorry. We should start from the beginning.”

Crasher stood back, folding their arms over their chest.

Hal took a long, deep breath. “The Professional League Corkball organization-“

The ground rumbled. A piercing whine rang out through the PA. There was a flash — people screamed — and shadowy figures stood in a ring on the walkways around the arena.

WEAK. SCARED. PATHETIC.

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